Young Guns
by writergirljenn
Summary: "I've loved you since I was sixteen." Starting on the morning of Tara Knowles' sixteenth birthday, Young Guns explores the teenage years of Jax, Tara, Opie, and Donna. *Adult/Mature Content* SOA and all associated characters are the intellectual property of the brilliant Kurt Sutter. This story is my own.
1. Chapter 1

Tara Knowles awoke to the sound of a familiar guitar riff crackling through the speakers of the radio alarm clock on her night stand. She groaned, reaching in vain for the snooze button. Not even close. She was too comfortable to move, so she resigned herself to listening to Sheryl Crow's "All I Wanna Do" for the hundredth time that week as she forced herself to wake up. She even found herself humming along by the end as she watched rays of sunlight slowly creep across her bedroom floor.

When the song was over, she let out a deep sigh and stretched her arms high above her head, sitting up reluctantly as some car salesman prattled on about the huge sale his dealership was having that weekend. She kicked off the covers and got out of bed, knowing she couldn't miss the bus. She had a test in first hour, and Mrs. Grove was a bitch. She locked the classroom door the second the bell rang, and if you missed class, she wouldn't allow you to make up the work.

"All I wanna do…is have some fun…" Tara sang quietly as she made her way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for school. The irony of waking up to that song in particular on the morning of her sixteenth birthday was not lost on her. She presumed that most girls would love for a song about having fun to kick off their special day. But Tara Knowles was not most girls. And all she wanted was for the day to pass as quickly as possible. She never missed her mother more than during her milestone moments in life. The gaping hole that loss left in Tara's world had never been filled, and it made days like this one especially painful.

Tara showered quickly, making a mental note to remind her father that they were almost out of shampoo. She towel dried her long, wavy brown locks and dressed in her favorite ripped jeans and the Nirvana concert tee her cousin from Seattle sent her for Christmas, then brushed her teeth and applied a thin layer of mascara to her lashes and a single coat of lip gloss to her lips.

Tara didn't consider herself one of the "pretty girls" at Charming High, and therefore didn't see the need to spend hours getting ready in the mornings. Nobody ever noticed her anyway. Well, nobody aside from David Hale. But he didn't count. He'd been in love with Tara since the first day of preschool. After twelve years of living in the same neighborhood and being in the same classes, he was practically her brother, which made his obsession with her that much more unsettling.

She was quiet as she passed her father's room on her way to the kitchen, although she doubted he'd hear a tornado come through the house over the sound of his own snoring. As a rule, the louder Sean Knowles snored, the drunker he'd gotten the night before. Judging by the chainsaw-esque noises coming from behind his door, he'd probably pulled an all-nighter.

Tara knew it was foolish to think that he'd remember her birthday- that he'd be awake with breakfast made and a generic "Happy Birthday" card he picked up at the liquor store waiting for her. She knew better than to get her hopes up. Still, her heart sank when all she found in the kitchen was a sink full of dirty dishes, a table strewn with empty beer bottles, and a half-eaten plate of nachos on the counter.

She contemplated reheating the nachos and eating them, but then thought better of it. No telling how long they'd been there. Instead, she poured herself a bowl of cereal, and added milk to the list of things they needed from the grocery store. She ate quickly, then grabbed her backpack from the dining room chair it occupied daily, and made her way to the front door. She still had a good five minutes at least before the bus would arrive. She retrieved her house key from the empty candy dish that sat on the console table near the door, almost not noticing the small gold box sitting beside it.

She picked the box up, turning it over in her hand as she inspected it. She couldn't remember ever seeing it before. There was a chance it was for her, albeit a very small one. It wasn't wrapped like a gift. There was no shiny bow. They probably didn't sell bows at the liquor store, though. Reluctantly, Tara started to open the box. A tiny piece of folded-up paper fell to the ground. Tara bent over to pick it up, allowing the box to slam shut, its tiny hinges creaking as it snapped. She put the box in her pocket so she could use both hands to unfold what appeared to be a hand-written note.

_Your mother would have wanted you to have this. Happy B-Day. -Dad_

Tara tried in vain to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat, but it was growing larger by the second, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She blinked back tears as she stared at the note. Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted by the familiar "swoosh" of school bus #24 coming to a stop in front of her house.

"Shit," she hissed, stuffing the note into her other pocket and running out of the house. She was in such a hurry, she forgot to lock the door behind her. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe her dad would think someone broke in and stole the little gold box and whatever was inside it, and she wouldn't have to have the inevitably awkward talk with him about it that awaited her when she got home. If he was even home when she got home, that is. 50/50 chance he'd already be at the bar by then.

Tara wiped her eyes and took a deep, uneven breath as she climbed onto the bus. She took her usual seat directly behind the driver. That was her favorite spot, because no one else would ever dare sit there. The cool kids went straight to the back of the bus, had since kindergarten. So there was no danger of anyone ever sitting with her and trying to strike up a conversation. Especially since David was on a different bus route this year. Thank God.

She waited until the bus had merged with traffic before she took the mysterious gold box out of her pocket. She was conflicted about whether or not she even wanted to open it. After a few minutes, her curiosity got the best of her, and she flipped the lid open once more, this time all the way. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

In the box was a gold, heart-shaped locket on a delicate gold chain. Her mother's necklace. There wasn't much Tara remembered about her mother anymore, but she remembered that necklace. When her mother would hold her in her lap and sing to her, Tara would play with the locket, opening and closing it. Inside it was a picture of Tara as a baby. She wondered if it was still there.

With her hands shaking and her lower lip trembling, she opened the locket. Her baby picture was inside, just as it had always been. But another picture had been added to the other side- one of her mother when she was very young, probably about the same age as Tara. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the picture. Her mother was so beautiful, so happy, so alive. It wasn't fair. If ever a little girl needed her mother, it was Tara. She didn't have siblings or a doting father or a large extended family. Her mother was her entire world. And when she died, so did a giant part of Tara.

No one had ever loved Tara like her mother did, and no one else probably ever would. She'd given up on the thought of ever having that sort of pure, unconditional love in her life again. She'd settle for any type of love at all, really. She put the locket on and clutched it tightly to her chest for a long moment. She pulled the note from her other pocket, smoothed out the wrinkles, then refolded it and put it back inside the box.

She wasn't sure whether she loved or hated her father for surprising her with such a thoughtful gift. Probably a little bit of both. While that locket would forever be her most prized possession, it pissed her off when her dad had good moments, because it reminded her of how much he was depriving her of by being a worthless drunk. He was capable of being a good man, a decent father. He'd been those things once. And seeing a glimmer of that every now and then was almost more painful for Tara than if he was just miserable and incoherent all the time.

The ride to the school seemed much shorter than usual, and before Tara knew it, she was pushing her way through the crowded halls to her locker, which was nowhere near any of her classes. Of course. All of the emotions she was feeling, all of the thoughts running through her head- she had to shut them off. School was no place for that shit. Lucky for her, she'd gotten pretty good at doing just that over the years.

As she was stuffing her backpack into her locker and fishing out her chemistry book, she caught an unmistakable whiff of Old Spice cologne. Great.

"Good morning, David," she said, without bothering to turn around.

"Good morning, Tara," he answered. "Happy Birthday." Tara closed her locker, offering David Hale a polite smile. Her smile faded, however, when she noticed that he had his hands behind his back and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Oh God," she moaned. If the men in her life were trying to make this her most uncomfortable birthday ever, they were succeeding.

"For you, my lady," he announced, producing a single, long-stemmed red rose from behind his back.

"Thank you, David," Tara sighed. The flower was actually beautiful. And David really was a good guy. He wasn't even bad looking, if Tara was being honest. He was tall, athletic, and had beautiful blue eyes. He was tan year-round due to all the outdoor sports he played, and he had an infectious smile that only Tara seemed to be immune to. His only physical misstep was that goofy haircut- the same one he'd been sporting since fifth grade. Tara wished she could see David as something other than a friend. It would make her life so much easier. But it just wasn't there.

"Got any big birthday plans tonight?" he asked. Tara shot him a knowing glance, as if the answer to that question should have been obvious. David cleared his throat nervously. "Right," he said. "Sorry. Well, I was wondering, if you're not doing anything, if you'd maybe like to go to dinner with me? Say, Luca's around 6:00? My dad's letting me borrow the car tonight, so I can pick you up."

Tara's knee-jerk reaction was to shoot him down. But a night out with David might be a little more bearable than a night at home with her dad after the locket stunt he'd pulled. And Luca's did have amazing pizza. She hadn't been there in forever.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Really?" David asked, unable to mask his surprise. He was a little too used to being shot down by Tara. But it never seemed to discourage him.

"6:00," Tara confirmed. "See you then." David opened his mouth to respond, grinning from ear to ear, but Tara left him hanging as she hurried away from him, toward her first hour. He was used to that too. She'd never been much for manners. But he didn't mind.

Thanks to David Hale and his puppy dog crush, Tara was behind schedule, and once again at risk of being late for class. She hurried through the school's main corridor, turning sharply down the hall that led to the science wing. In too much of a rush to pay attention to where she was going, Tara collided with a brick wall that smelled of leather and motor oil.

"Easy there," crooned a smooth, unfamiliar voice. Tara looked up. Jackson Teller, the bad boy heart throb of Charming. Who else, right? Tara's cheeks instantly flushed bright red.

"Sorry," she croaked, her throat suddenly very dry.

" 'Sall good," he assured her, tucking his sandy blonde hair behind his ears. Tara wasn't usually one to go along with public opinion, but Jax Teller's allure was undeniable. He was perfection- gorgeous, charismatic, popular, dangerous. Everything David Hale wasn't. And he knew it. "That for me?" he asked, looking at the flower in Tara's hand. She swallowed hard.

"Uh, no," she answered. She tried to make eye contact as a show of false confidence, but she failed miserably. Jax's mesmerizing baby blue gaze was too intense. She was no match for it. Especially not today. "Birthday present," she explained. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. So much for keeping her birthday off the radar.

"Today's your birthday?" Jax asked, offering Tara a genuine smile. She nodded. "Well, Happy Birthday," he said. "Looks like your boyfriend's takin' good care of you."

"Oh, I don't...David's not…I don't have a…boyfriend," Tara stammered.

"You don't?" Jax asked, sounding surprised. Tara couldn't tell whether he was sincere or mocking her.

"No," she said.

"Tara Knowles is single," Jax said, more to himself than to her. Tara was shocked that he knew her name. Everybody knew who he was, but she was a nobody. "Well, well, well." Tara smiled involuntary, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks once more. Jax smiled back. Tara met his gaze again, only this time she didn't look away. She couldn't. She was under his spell. A delicate butterfly trapped in his web, completely at his mercy. She almost didn't even hear the bell when it rang. "Whoops," Jax murmured, not seeming to care at all that he was late for first hour. First hour.

"Shit!" Tara breathed. Jax's brow furrowed.

"Something wrong?"

"I have a test first hour," Tara explained. "Mrs. Grove."

"Well then you're already fucked," Jax chuckled. "That bitch don't play." Tara sighed, defeated. This day just kept getting worse and worse. "Aw, turn that frown upside down, birthday girl," Jax teased, touching his thumbs to Tara's cheeks in an effort to literally turn her frown upside down. Tara gasped. Jax's skin felt like fire on hers. The suddenly unsettled look in his eyes almost made her think that he felt it too. "Come with me," he told her, taking her hand in his.

"What?" Tara asked, her head spinning.

"I said come with me," he repeated. It's your birthday, you don't wanna spend it in this shit hole. Besides, you already failed a test and it's not even five minutes into first hour. I'm no genius like you, Miss Knowles, but I'd say those are two very good reasons to blow off the rest of the day and come spend it with me." His words were confident, but his eyes were unsure. Pleading, maybe? That couldn't be right. Jackson Teller could have any girl he wanted. Why would he want Tara?

"Me and you?" Tara asked quietly, confused.

"Me and you," Jax said, an unreadable expression on his face. Tara nodded. She had no choice. Jax linked his fingers through hers and pulled her behind him as he headed for the double doors at the end of the hall, not seeming to care in the slightest if they were caught. Tara's heart was beating so fast, she could feel her pulse from the hair follicles on top of her head to the tips of her bright red toenails. She had no idea where they were going, but she didn't care. From that moment on, she would follow Jackson Teller anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

Jax felt uneasy as he led Tara through the school parking lot to where his motorcycle was parked. He hoped she couldn't feel his hand sweating in hers. This was dumb. How many other girls had he made this exact same move on this school year alone? He'd never been nervous before. Most of those girls didn't even have names to him. He only remembered them as "the one with the killer legs" or "the one with the sexy lips."

Insignificant, uninteresting, interchangeable crow eaters in training who wore too much make up and not enough clothes. Those were the kinds of girls Jax Teller was used to. But this girl- this girl was a different breed altogether. Perhaps that was why he found himself so drawn to her. She was quite literally the only girl in the entire school who didn't fawn all over him. She never seemed to notice when he gave her "the look" from across the hall, and was the only chick in his History class who didn't choose her seat on the basis of its proximity to the table he and Opie had staked their claim on in the back of the room.

Jax was used to getting whatever, and whoever, he wanted. Nobody was immune to "the look." Nobody except Tara, it seemed. Shit, even half the teachers at Charming High were trying to get in his pants. He could probably graduate with a 4.0 without ever doing another assignment if he'd be willing to trade sex for grades. Older chicks weren't really his thing, though. Well, maybe Miss O'Neal, his Geometry teacher. Those tight little skirts she wore, the ones that were almost too short to be decent for a teacher, those were pretty hot.

Tara Knowles was an enigma. Jax had been going to school with her since kindergarten, but he knew absolutely nothing about her. She'd always pretty much kept to herself. She didn't seem to have any real friends, and Jax never saw her out and about town with her family. Come to think of it, he didn't remember ever seeing her parents at school functions either. Say what you like about Jax's outlaw family, but no one could accuse them of being unsupportive. They always showed up to _everything_.

Pain twisted in Jax's gut as an image of his parents and little brother at his 8th grade graduation tugged at his subconscious. Since that day, his family had been cut in half. He was almost getting used to his tow-head baby brother being nothing more than a memory, but his father's death was still fresh. He swallowed his pain and returned his thoughts to Tara's social life, or lack thereof. The only person he could ever really remember seeing her with was that asshole jock David Hale. He'd just assumed they were dating. Apparently, he was wrong. He smiled at the prospect.

"What?" Tara asked. Jax turned to the brunette beauty as they weaved through the rusty old cars driven by their peers, making their way toward the back corner of the lot where no one without a motorcycle dare step foot. Her hair was almost auburn in the sunlight, and her hazel eyes were dazzling. Jax inhaled sharply. He was already struggling with his thoughts around this girl, and it was getting harder to control them by the second.

"Nothin'," Jax told her. "Just thinkin'."

"What about?" Tara persisted.

"_The Simpsons_," he lied.

"The _what_?" she asked.

"_The Simpsons_. You know, the TV show. I was trying to remember if there's a new episode this week." Jax smiled at Tara in a way that she couldn't tell whether or not he was joking. She smiled back, her eyebrows raised.

"Like the cartoon?" she asked, needing further clarification. Jax nodded.

"Hell yeah," he confirmed. "Eat my shorts, man! I love that shit." Tara laughed, much harder and louder than she intended to. Jax was unable to mask the surprise in his eyes. Girls didn't laugh _at_ Jax Teller, they laughed when he meant for them to. "What's funny?" he challenged.

"Nothing," Tara said, stifling another giggle.

"So where do you wanna go?" he asked. Tara shrugged her shoulders.

"This was your idea," she reminded him.

"Hey!" a voice boomed from nearby. "Who's that juvenile delinquent skipping class?" Jax felt Tara's hand jerk in his. He chuckled.

"You tell me, asshole," he called back. His best friend Opie Winston was seated on his bike, which was parked next to Jax's. His flavor of the week, Donna Lerner, was draped over him like a ratty old blanket. "My boy," Jax explained to Tara, who nodded nervously.

"What's goin' on?" Opie asked as Jax and Tara approached, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Not much, bro," Jax answered, hoping to keep their conversation short. He wanted Tara all to himself for as long as possible.

"Oh, hey, Tara," Opie added, smiling wider. He and Tara had been casual acquaintances since she'd tutored him in Algebra freshman year.

"Hey, Opie," Tara replied quietly. Donna rolled her eyes. Tara didn't acknowledge her. Jax smirked, wondering what the story was there. He would have to ask Tara later.

"You guys outta here?" Jax asked, sounding slightly impatient. He shot Opie a pleading glance. He wasn't sure if Tara had ever ridden a bike before, and getting her settled might take a few tries. He didn't want an audience standing around, making her feel self conscious. Jax normally didn't give his girls' feelings a second thought, but he found himself very concerned, maybe too concerned, with Tara's. Less than five minutes together and he was already feeling protective and territorial. That couldn't be a good thing.

"Yeah, bro," Opie said knowingly. "Yeah, we are." He nodded to Donna, who eagerly hopped on the back of his bike and wrapped her scrawny arms around his tree trunk-like torso. Opie handed her the helmet that was hanging from his handle bars, and she strapped it on in one quick movement.

"Catch ya later," Jax said, flashing his friend a grateful grin. Opie fired up his bike, gave Tara a polite nod, and sped out of the parking lot. Tara watched intently as Opie and Donna grew smaller in the distance, studying them. Jax's suspicion seemed to be correct. Motorcycles were a whole new world to Tara.

"Ever ridden before?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be. Tara shook her head. "It's cool," Jax assured her. "I'll take good care of you, I promise." He didn't mean for so much sincerity to permeate his words. The emotion in Tara's eyes was a mystery to him, as was pretty much everything else about her. But he could tell one thing. She trusted him. And Jax wanted nothing more than to be someone she could trust.

He helped her with her helmet, then demonstrated the best way for her to mount the bike before taking his seat. He held out a steadying hand to Tara as she threw one leg over the motorcycle and slid in behind him. He could tell that their close proximity made her uncomfortable by the way she held onto the sides of his shirt.

"You're gonna have to get a little closer and hold on a little tighter than that, darlin'," he instructed her.

"Okay," she agreed quietly, her voice quivering. She scooted closer so that her chest was just barely brushing against Jax's muscular back, and held his sides a little tighter.

"Like this," he said, taking her arms and pulling them tightly around his chest. She locked her hands just below his heart. Her breath was warm on his neck, and gave him goose bumps that he hoped she didn't see. He'd had dozens of girls on his bike before, and not a single one of them had ever had such an effect on him.

"Like this?" Tara asked. Jax nodded, biting back a satisfied smirk. Tara tightened her grip, resting her chin lightly on his shoulder. She smelled sweet, like flowers and honey. Jax inhaled deeply.

"Hold on tight," he said.

* * *

Tara was still clinging to Jax for dear life a good thirty seconds after he'd parked his bike and turned off the engine. He didn't mind. He loved the feel of her skin on his.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tara assured him, her voice but a whisper. "Fine." She released her death grip and slid off the bike, her legs wobbly. Jax followed, slicking his hair back and readjusting his jeans. Tara's hair was wild around her face, her breathing still uneven.

"So what'd ya think?" Jax asked as he unstrapped the helmet from Tara's head and set it on the motorcycle seat. She immediately took to the task of taming her hair, combing it with her fingers and trying to get it back into place. Jax kind of preferred it messy.

"It was…" Tara paused for a moment, searching for the right word. "…terrifying," she admitted. She laughed, embarrassed, as her cheeks flushed pink. Jax couldn't help but laugh, too.

"Aw, but we made it here in one piece," he reminded her. "It's cool."

"And where is here, exactly?" Tara asked, taking in their surroundings as her nerves settled. They were in the middle of nowhere, at the edge of an open field littered with trees.

"This is my spot," Jax told her.

"Your _spot_?" Tara sounded offended. Jax had no idea why, but he didn't like feeling like she was upset with him. He'd never been so concerned with another person's opinion of him, and it wasn't something he was comfortable with. "So this is where Jax Teller brings all his girls? How romantic." She made no attempt to hide her sarcasm.

"What?" Jax asked, amused. "Tara, no. This is _my_ spot- the place I always seem to end up when I go riding with no destination in mind. I've actually never brought a girl here before. I come alone. Come to think, sometimes to write…"

"You _write_?" Tara interrupted.

"You seem surprised," Jax teased. "I'm not just some dumb biker, you know. I have layers." Tara stared at him for a long moment, contemplating his words.

"I'm starting to see that," she said, intrigued. "So how does this work? What do we do here? In your spot?" Jax took her hand in his, and walked quietly toward his favorite tree, a giant cypress that provided just the right amount of shade and offered a beautiful view of the California countryside. He liked that Tara didn't feel obligated to fill the silence with mindless chatter like most people would. She was content just to be with him. And he was beyond content just to be with her.

They settled in a grassy spot in the shade, seated opposite each other. Tara watched the tall grass as it danced in the breeze, while Jax watched Tara. She was so beautiful, but not in an overtly obvious sort of way. She didn't wear a lot of makeup or have big hair. She didn't wear skimpy clothes or have ridiculous curves. She didn't stand out in a crowd. She was like a hidden treasure. And now that Jax had found her, she was all he wanted. From her soulful hazel eyes to her perfectly sculpted lips; from her luscious, long hair to her porcelain skin; from her tight little body to her willful personality; he wanted all of her.

"So tell me about Tara Knowles," he said after a long while, breaking the silence.

"Not much to tell," she said simply.

"Awwww, come on," Jax pleaded, tilting his head to one side. "I've shared all kinds of secrets already today- brought you to my secret spot, told you about my love of cartoons and the fact that I like to write. Ya gotta give me somethin'."

"Okay," Tara began. "I'm an only child. My mom died in a car accident when I was nine- hit by a drunk driver. My dad coped by becoming a drunk himself, so I've pretty much been on my own ever since. I hate girls and their petty bullshit so I don't have a lot of friends. I spend all my time studying because I want to get into medical school and the only chance I've got is with a scholarship. Oh, and I ruined the perfect attendance record I've held since seventh grade to be here with you today. That enough sharing for you?"

"Yeah," Jax said. "That's a pretty good start. And Tara- I'm sorry about your mom. I had no idea." He tried to conceal the pain in his eyes, but was unsuccessful.

"It gets better," Tara whispered, placing a comforting hand over Jax's. She knew. Of course she did. Everyone had heard about the tragic demise of JT Teller, the unofficial King of Charming. It was front page fodder for weeks. Jax swallowed hard. Tara's eyes met his. Jax seldom allowed anyone to see his vulnerable side, for fear of looking weak. But this was different. Tara understood. She got it. Her face conveyed nothing but compassion and sincerity. Jax found himself overcome with emotion. In one fluid movement, he closed the gap between him and Tara. His lips were on hers before she could react. Caught off guard, she was hesitant at first. She pulled away just slightly.

"Sorry," Jax murmured. Tara studied his face, her eyes lustful. He leaned in slower this time, making sure she was ready. When his lips touched hers, it was electric. He moved his hands to the small of her back, pulling her body to his. Tara twisted her fingers in Jax's hair, her tongue moving hungrily against his. He laid her down gently in the grass, kissing her harder and faster as his hands explored her body. He felt her tense up as he slipped his fingers under her shirt. He stopped. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Tara whispered. "It's just…I've never…" Jax recoiled instantly, sitting up and crossing his hands over his knees.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know." Tara sat up also, readjusting her shirt.

"It's okay," she told him. "I want to." She wrapped her arms around Jax's neck and pulled his face toward hers. She kissed him eagerly, her body wrought with desire. Jax pulled away again.

"Believe me, so do I," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But you don't want your first time to be like this."

"How do you know what I want?" Tara asked defensively, her feelings obviously hurt.

"Tara," Jax pleaded. "I like you. A lot. You're different. You're not just some crow-eater wannabe."

"Some _what_?"

"Nevermind," Jax said quickly, in no rush to explain the definition of crow-eater. "The point is, I respect you. I respect you enough to want your first time to be as special as you deserve."

"I'm a big girl, Jax," Tara insisted. "I get to decide how I want my first time to be. And I want it to be with you."

"I want that too," Jax laughed. "But not like this. Your first time should be with someone you love. Let me make you fall in love with me first." Tara blushed, diverting her eyes from Jax's.

"Okay," she whispered. Jax draped an arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a long while, the only sounds the afternoon breeze and birds chirping in the distance. Jax could have stayed like that all day if it weren't for the fact that he'd skipped breakfast that morning. His rumbling stomach interrupted the quiet. Tara giggled.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"Famished," Tara admitted. Jax stood up, brushing the dirt and grass from his clothes, then reached down to Tara. She took his hand and hoisted herself up. He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her sweetly, just once, so as not to get too carried away again. He didn't want his raging hormones getting in the way of his attempt to be chivalrous.

"Come on," he said. "I know just the place."


	3. Chapter 3

Tara clung tightly to Jax as they sped back toward Charming on his two-wheeled death machine. She'd never understood the allure of motorcycles, and her up close and personal experience was doing nothing to convert her. She was _terrified_. If it had been anyone else offering, she wouldn't have accepted the ride. But no one said no to Jax Teller, not even a social misfit like herself.

Her head was spinning , and not just because she was hurdling through the California countryside at speeds unknown, with nothing but a bowl-shaped helmet and the clothes on her back protecting her from the unforgiving pavement below her. She was confused. She was conflicted. She'd started her day hating the world and birthdays and normal families and her dad. And now, just a few hours later, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat and day dreaming about rainbows and unicorns and shit.

What was happening to her? She was completely smitten, borderline obsessed, with a boy who'd been nothing more than an idea the day before- an unattainable dream who was the object of affection of every school girl within a hundred mile radius. And somehow, he seemed to be smitten with her as well. Her. Tara Knowles. Miss Plain Jane USA. Or was he? Maybe he was just _that_ good. He certainly seemed genuine, though. And when he kissed her- well, there was just no faking what happened between them when they touched. It was exhilarating. It was petrifying.

When they reached the city limits, Jax began driving more conservatively. Tara was almost able to catch her breath. Almost. Jax turned down side streets and back roads until Tara wasn't sure she was even in Charming anymore. She wanted to ask him where they were going, but she was sure the wind would steal her breath if she even tried to open her mouth. Either that or she'd inadvertently swallow a bug. How embarrassing would that be?

Finally, Jax turned onto a dirt service road that took them back into familiar territory. Tara recognized the auto repair shop Jax's family owned to her right. It stuck out like a sore thumb, what with the barbed wire privacy fence surrounding it. She'd passed by it many times before, but never been inside the gates. Something told her that was about to change.

It was the middle of the day, so the front gate was open and the Teller Morrow lot was accessible to the public. Jax rode in like he owned the place, which Tara supposed was fitting, since he sort of did. He parked his bike alongside at least a dozen other bikes and helped Tara down more easily this time. She unfastened her helmet and handed it to Jax, again trying to smooth down her windblown hair before anyone saw it.

"You alright?" he asked, studying Tara's face. "You look a little green." Embarrassed, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I just get a little motion sickness sometimes. I thought you said we were going to lunch?" she asked, taking in her surroundings. The inside of the fortress was exactly as she'd always imagined it- full of motorcycles and flashy cars, dangerous looking men dressed in leather and slutty looking women dressed in next to nothing. Tara was definitely out of her element.

"We are," Jax said, smiling as he brushed a wayward strand of hair from Tara's cheek. He took her hand and led her toward a building that stood apart from the repair shop. The sign over the door said 'Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club.' Tara wasn't sure what that even meant. She'd heard rumors all her life about the outlaw motorcycle gang that ran Charming, but she never knew what to make of them. As she and Jax approached the building, they ran into two young men sitting at a picnic table just outside the door, having a smoke.

"Jackie Boy!" exclaimed one of them in a thick Scottish accent as he stood up and patted Jax on the back. "Shouldn't ya be in school?"

"Whatever," Jax muttered. The man laughed a hearty laugh. Tara couldn't help but smile. "Tara, this is Chibs," Jax said. "Chibs, this is my friend Tara."

"Very niiiiice," Chibs said to Jax with a wink before turning his attention to Tara. "Nice to meet ya, young lady," he said. Tara reached out timidly and shook his hand.

"You too," she said quietly. The man was tall, well built, probably in his early 20's. He was wearing the same leather vest as most of the other men on the lot, with a dirty white t-shirt and jeans underneath. He had dark brown hair that was greased back, and brown eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. His smile was…off putting. Tara could tell it had once been a lovely smile, but even the thick goatee he was sporting couldn't hide the fresh scars that went from the corners of his mouth to his cheek bones on each side of his face, creating a strange, permanent smile. She could still see the tiny holes where his stitches had likely been. He reminded her of a circus clown. A very scary circus clown. Tara hoped there was a logical explanation for the scars- a surgery following a motorcycle accident perhaps. But she doubted it.

"Prospect!" Chibs called out to the other man seated at the picnic table. "Come greet Jackie's new friend." Tara felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as another tall, muscular man in a leather vest approached her. He smiled, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her uncomfortable. He had short black hair that looked like it would be quite curly if he let it grow, and a long, slender face with a thick mustache. His piercing blue eyes cut right through Tara, and she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Tara, this is Tig," Jax announced, not nearly as anxious to introduce her to him as he had been to his other friend. "He's the new guy around here."

"Hey," Tig huffed, shooting Jax a dirty look. "Who's wearing a kutte and who's wearing a leather jacket his mommy bought him from Sears, asshole?" Jax gritted his teeth, moving aggressively toward Tig, but Chibs stepped in between them.

"Knock it off," Chibs warned. "Not in front of the lady." Jax looked at Tara, whose eyes were wide with fear.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, taking her hand in his. Chibs grabbed Tig, who was still snarling at Jax, by the collar with both hands.

"Apologize to the lady," he demanded. Tig spit at Jax's feet, not taking his eyes off him.

"Sorry," he sneered, turning to Tara. She swallowed hard, unable to speak. Chibs gave her an apologetic smile as Jax led her into the SAMCRO clubhouse. As soon as they were alone, Tara let out the breath she'd been holding.

"I'm so sorry, Tara," Jax repeated. "Tig's an asshole. My old man hated him, refused to let him into the club. But the new president had different ideas. He's still on probation, so I'm really hoping they don't vote him in. I don't want to spend the rest of my life riding with that asshole."

"So it really is a gang?" Tara asked incredulously. Her heart was pounding, and not in a good way like it had been when she and Jax were out in the country together.

"A club," Jax corrected her. "A motorcycle club. Not a gang."

"Sorry," Tara said. "And you're in this…club?" Jax smiled, shaking his head.

"Nah," he told her. "Not 'til I'm eighteen. I'll prospect for a year, then be voted in on my nineteenth birthday. Once that happens, I'm goin' after my dad's gavel. All this will be mine someday," he said, spreading his arms wide and laughing. Tara wasn't sure whether to be impressed or mortified.

The clubhouse was dark, with very little light filtering in through just a couple small windows. The walls were dark wood, as were the tables and mismatched chairs scattered throughout the room. In one corner was a well used pool table. In the other, a bar lined with worn leather bar stools. On the far wall, beside a set of wooden double doors, was a photo collage. It took Tara a minute to realize what she was looking at. Mug shots. Dozens of them. Some people she recognized from around town, and some she hoped to never run into in a dark alley at night.

"Jesus," she whispered to herself. Jax followed her gaze, tensing up beside her. He didn't want to overwhelm her, and he was afraid the club's wall of infamy might do just that. He had to distract her.

"Hey, Ma," he called loudly, his voice echoing through the empty clubhouse. "You here?" Almost instantly, Tara heard what sounded like very tall high heels clicking against the linoleum, coming toward them. The kitchen door behind the bar swung open, and a beautiful, frightening looking woman Tara recognized as Jax's mother appeared before them.

"Jackson," Gemma Teller lamented. "Why the hell aren't you at school?" She hurried toward them, wrapping her son in a tight embrace and kissing him on the cheek. Tara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. While Gemma's actions were very motherly, her appearance definitely was not. She wore skin tight jeans that were ripped at the knees, and black hooker boots with two inch heels. She had on a tight red bodysuit and matching costume jewelry- all gold and oversized and gaudy. Her jet black hair was streaked with blonde, and she was wearing thick black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. She smelled like patchouli and cigarettes. "Who's this?" she asked coldly, eyeing Tara up and down.

"Mom, this is Tara Knowles," Jax said. "Tara, this is my mother, Gemma." Tara reached out her hand to Gemma.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," she squeaked. Gemma shook her hand firmly, her long nails digging into Tara's skin.

"Knowles," Gemma repeated, as if she were trying to remember where she knew the name from. Jax and Tara had been in school together since kindergarten, but they'd never been friends. "Ah, yes," she finally said. "Tara Knowles. I remember you. Nice to see you again." She offered Tara a sympathetic smile, her face softening just slightly. Who didn't remember the poor little Knowles girl with the dead mommy and the drunk daddy?

"We came for lunch," Jax announced, rubbing Tara's back reassuringly. "What'd ya make today?"

"What the hell do I look like?" Gemma scolded. "Your goddamn personal chef?"

"Yeah," Jax responded. "Sorta." Gemma smiled, shaking her head as she made her way back behind the bar. Tara smiled, too. Even Jax's own mother wasn't immune to his charm.

"You're in luck," Gemma told them. "I haven't started lunch yet. What do you want?" Jax looked at Tara, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I don't care," Tara said politely. "I'm not picky."

"It's your birthday," Jax reminded her. "You pick."

"It's your birthday?" Gemma asked. Tara nodded. "Well, Happy Birthday! How old?"

"Sixteen," Tara said.

"Wow," Gemma breathed. "Sixteen. That's a big one." She paused for a moment, tapping her nails against the bar top as she thought. "You like fried chicken?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Tara told her.

"Call me Gemma," she insisted. Tara smiled nervously. "You like chocolate?" Gemma asked.

"Who doesn't like chocolate?" Tara replied, sounding snarkier than she meant to. "I mean y-yes, ma'- Gemma. Yes, I do." Gemma nodded, half amused and half offended.

"Good," was all she said before disappearing into the kitchen. Jax led Tara to a table near the jukebox, which looked like it hadn't worked in years. She giggled when he pulled out her chair for her.

"Such a gentleman," Tara teased. Jax smiled, taking the seat across from her.

"I try," he said. "So?" Tara looked at him, confused. God, he was beautiful. If his mother wasn't in the next room, she'd be all over him. She could still taste his lips on hers, but she needed more.

"So…what?" she asked.

"I know you've probably got a shit ton of questions," Jax explained. Tara shook her head.

"Not really," she said. "Well…just one."

"Hit me," Jax insisted.

"That guy…Chibs? What happened to his face?" Jax smiled, seemingly amused that that was her only question.

"Not sure," he explained. "He came to us like that from Ireland a couple months ago. Looks way better now than he did then. That shit was nasty. He's a good guy, though. I think I like him."

"But you don't like the other one…Tig?" Jax's expression changed at the mention of his name.

"Nobody likes Tig," he sneered. "Except for Clay."

"Who's…" Their conversation was interrupted by the wooden double doors on the far side of the room opening as four men wearing identical leather vests appeared, all of whom Tara recognized from the mug shot photos on the wall. The tallest one had dirty blonde hair that was turning white in spots, and cool blue eyes. He was muscular, his tattooed biceps stretching his black t-shirt thin, and had a very unique face. His vest had a patch on it that said 'President.'

With him was a short, chubby man who looked like a former hippy with his long, wavy, graying hair and a beard that went halfway down his chest, and a tallish, slender man with long brown hair that fell in careless waves around his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, displaying an impressive amount of ink. The fourth man, the one with the intense eyes and gruff, booming voice, Tara recognized at once as Opie's dad. She saw him at school all the time. Individually, the men would have been intimidating. Together, they were terrifying. Tara tried to act naturally, but she was sure she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Jesus, boy," the club president growled when he caught sight of Jax. "Don't you ever go to school?"

"Overrated," Jax chuckled. He introduced Tara to Clay, Piney, Otto, and Bobby. Tara quickly shook all of their hands, and then let out a sigh of relief when they moved to the bar, not interested in keeping conversation with a couple of teenagers.

As the smell of fried chicken filled the air, people began making their way in from outside, filling the empty seats and tables. Apparently lunch time was a community event at Teller Morrow. Every time Tara began to feel overwhelmed, Jax commanded her attention by squeezing her hand or asking her a question, even once leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. He could tell his world was a bit much for her- hell, it was a bit much for him sometimes. But he still seemed eager to share it with her.

Despite her earlier reservations, Tara was relieved when Opie and Donna walked through the door. Donna Lerner was by no means her favorite person, but at least she was a familiar face. Jax was happy to see them as well. He waved them over as they surveyed the room, Donna much more in her element among the rowdy crowd than Tara would ever be.

"What's goin' on?" Opie asked as he took the empty seat beside Jax. Donna reluctantly sat down next to Tara, not saying a word to her or Jax.

"Just chillin',bro," Jax offered casually. "Mom's makin' fried chicken for Tara's birthday."

"Well Happy Birthday, Tara," Opie said, clearly more excited about the fried chicken than he was about Tara turning sixteen. Donna couldn't have cared less about either.

"Thank you," Tara responded. Jax smiled at her. In a room full of brutes and gashes, she was a breath of fresh air and manners. Within minutes, Gemma and a few other women who seemed more than happy to follow Gemma's lead carried out several trays of fried chicken. It smelled delicious. It tasted better. Tara gobbled up everything that was put in front of her, sucking down two root beers in the process. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.

As Jax and Opie were fighting over the last of the fried chicken, Gemma reappeared from the kitchen holding a serving platter with a homemade chocolate cake on it, complete with sixteen lit candles. She led the crowd in a very odd rendition of 'Happy Birthday' as she made her way to Tara. Even Donna joined in. Tara knew the cake and the candles and the celebration were for her, but she was in disbelief. No one had sung to her or baked her a cake since her mother died. She fought back tears, not wanting to make the moment more awkward than it already was.

This dangerous bunch of outlaws and delinquents was a family- a dysfunctional family, no doubt, but a family none the less. They weren't Tara's family, but they could be. And as she readied herself to blow out the candles on her cake, Jax reminding her to make a wish, there was only one thing she wanted- to be a part of this world. To be a part of Jax's family. So she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made the wish that would change the course of her life forever.


	4. Chapter 4

Jax stared at his ceiling, listening to the crickets outside his bedroom window. He wasn't supposed to leave his window open at night, he knew that, but he also wasn't supposed to sleep with a .45 under his mattress, either. He figured the two things balanced each other out, and that what Gemma didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

He had no idea how long he'd been lying there, or what time it was. What he did know was that he couldn't get Tara out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was her smile, her eyes, the way her hair blew in the breeze when she was on the back of his bike. He felt like a damn chick, fawning over his crush. He wondered how many girls stayed awake at night fantasizing about him- probably way too many. For once, he actually felt a little bad for them. And for the first time since probably third grade, he was excited to get up and go to school the next morning.

When he dropped Tara off and kissed her goodnight, a delicious, spine tingling kiss, he made her promise that she'd ride to school with him the next morning. The only way he could bear to part with her was knowing when he would see her again. Which was ridiculous. He'd never been like this over a girl. Ever. And he wasn't sure what to do about it.

Although he felt like he'd been tossing and turning for hours, Jax knew it couldn't be too late. He could still hear his mother in the kitchen, cleaning and talking on the phone. He hoped she was talking to one of her friends, but he knew better. She was probably talking to _him_.

As slick as Gemma thought she was, Jax knew exactly what was going on between her and Clay Morrow, his deceased father's best friend and the new SAMCRO president. There'd been talk about it since way back before Thomas died. Now that JT was gone, the two of them barely even tried to hide it anymore. Jax supposed it made sense, even though the thought of his mother with Clay made him sick to his stomach. They'd always been close. And Gemma had always been the SAMCRO queen. If she was with Clay, she wouldn't have to give up her throne. Still, every time Jax asked her about it, she flat out denied it- promised him Clay was just looking out for the two of them in JT's absence, said they were just friends. Jax was pretty sure the only way she'd ever own up to it was if he walked in on the two of them in bed together. Even then, Gemma would probably try to lie her way out of it.

Unsettled by where his train of thought was heading, Jax tried to clear his mind. He closed his eyes and pictured the beach, the one he and Thomas used to go to as children. He saw the dark waves gently lapping the sandy shore, watched the clouds as they shifted in the breeze. He could hear Thomas laughing in the distance, begging for Jax to chase him. And he could see _her_. Tara Knowles, dressed in a tank top and jean shorts, barefoot in the sand. She was smiling at him, beckoning to him with her eyes. Jax's breathing slowed as he followed Tara down the shoreline, to where, he didn't know.

Just as his fantasy started to morph into a dream, he was startled awake by his creaking bedroom door. "Jackson? You asleep?" His mother tiptoed into his room, allowing light from the hallway to overtake the darkness. Jax grumbled incoherently, throwing his pillow over his face in protest. Gemma had always been needy, but now that it was just the two of them, she was out of control.

"Whaaaaaat?" he groaned.

She perched on the edge of his bed, making it clear she wasn't going anywhere. "We need to talk." Jax threw himself onto his back, grunting in frustration as he tossed his pillow aside. "I hear you had a little dust-up with Tig at the clubhouse today."

Jax gritted his teeth. "Oh yeah? And where'd ya hear that?" His question was futile. He already knew the answer.

"Doesn't matter, son. What matters is that you respect the members of the club. All of them."

"Tig's not a member," he reminded her. "Shouldn't even be a prospect. If dad was still here-"

"Yeah, well, he's not," Gemma interrupted. Jax was startled by the harshness of her words. Her voice softened as she tried to backtrack. "I'm sorry. It's just…I don't want you screwing up the future your father and I wanted for you. The club was always meant to be yours, Jax, and someday it will be. But ya gotta play by the rules."

Jax laughed angrily. "Yeah. Clay's rules."

"The club's rules." Gemma corrected him. He rolled his eyes. "So tell me about this girl," she said, changing the subject, "this little wallflower you brought into the clubhouse today, Tara. You like her?" Jax pulled the pillow back over his face. He was _not_ talking to his mother about Tara.

"She's just a good friend," he said, mimicking her answer to him every time he asked about Clay. Gemma's eyes narrowed. She stood up and smoothed out the creases in her skin-tight jeans.

"Good night, Jackson." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead with liquored breath.

"Night, Mom."

* * *

Jax sat on his bike outside Tara's house, watching for the front door to open. It had rained overnight, and the pavement was still wet and spotted with puddles. The sun was out now, glinting off the raindrops still clinging to the tall blades of grass in Tara's yard. He looked at his watch. 7:52. School started in less than ten minutes, and the drive would take at least that long, especially with the roads slick. Jax didn't mind being late for school, but he knew Tara did. He wondered if he should go knock on the door.

Across the street, two little boys, no more than three or four, were playing basketball with a miniature ball and hoop. Jax watched them, trying to keep score. The dark-haired boy seemed to be winning, which made the blonde-haired boy upset. Jax chuckled as they began to shove each other, shouting over whose turn it was. He saw movement in his side mirror.

He watched as Tara came running around the side of the house, her head down. She climbed onto the back of his bike and took the helmet he held out to her without saying a word, without making eye contact. Jax frowned.

"You alright?" he asked. Tara dragged the palms of her hands across her cheeks, sniffling hard.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Let's just get out of here." Jax complied, snapping on his helmet and starting the bike. As he pulled away from the curb, he saw movement in the front window of the house- a tall figure, standing off to the side, watching.

He rode toward school, the scent of rain still lingering in the air. He breathed it in, letting it settle in his bones and soothe his soul. He could feel Tara's body shaking, pressed against his as she clung to him. At first he thought she was just cold, but the closer they got to school, the more evident it became that she was crying. Jax didn't know her well enough yet to know her moods or how to handle them, but he knew he couldn't take her to school like this. So, just before he pulled into the student parking lot, he made a hard left instead. Startled, Tara held him tighter. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt her breathe a sigh of relief.

* * *

"So, we gonna talk about it?" Jax asked, studying Tara's face as she scraped off the red polish on her fingernails.

"About what?" she asked, not bothering to look up. Jax let out a long, frustrated sigh. He scooted closer, so that their shoulders were touching. He pulled her hands apart, pressing them to each side of his face and holding them there.

"Tara." She looked up, her lower lip quivering. "What happened?" She shook her head, tears spilling over onto her cheeks.

"It's stupid," she insisted. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing." Jax slid one of her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. Her cheeks flushed bright pink. "We're not goin' anywhere 'til you tell me what's goin' on, and it looks like another storm's moving in. So unless you want to get stuck out here in the rain, you might wanna start talking." Tara bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to smile. She tilted her head toward the sky, examining the darks clouds on the horizon. She almost looked like she would welcome the rain.

Her sad beauty took Jax's breath away. He was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her, but if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. And figuring out what was wrong with her was more important. He shook his head. Since when were a girl's feelings more important to him than fooling around? Something was happening to him, and he couldn't decide whether or not he was happy about it. He was losing himself. Or was he finding himself?

"It's my father," Tara finally admitted, still watching the sky. Jax felt suddenly at ease. He didn't realize until that moment how worried he'd been that maybe she was upset with him for some reason.

"That's it?" he asked. "Just parent bullshit?" The look on Tara's face told him he'd said the wrong thing.

"Yeah. That's it. I told you, stupid…" She pulled her hands from Jax's face and went back to picking at her nail polish.

"No, Tara, I…" Jax exhaled, frustrated with himself. "That's not what I meant. I just thought that maybe I did something, or…" She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised.

"You? No. You're perfect…" she let the accidental compliment hang in the air, her cheeks changing color again.

Jax smiled. "Not even close, but I appreciate the vote of confidence." And he did. Jax was used to people worshipping him, but it was only because of who his father was- not who _he_ was. Tara was different. She didn't care about his status or what it could do for her. She didn't worship him or hold him up like some false idol. As far as he could tell, she just liked being around him. And when she looked at him, she seemed to see the good in him that no one else ever took the time to find. "Come here," he said, reaching for her hand again. She gave it to him willingly. He pulled her into his lap, resting his forehead against hers. "I'll leave it alone, if you promise me you're okay."

"I'm okay." Tara nodded, the corners of her mouth turning up. "I'm better than okay now." Jax wrapped his hands around the back of her neck, pulling her face closer to his.

"You can talk to me about anything, alright? I mean it. I'm here for you." His words were simple, but they did something to Tara. Her eyes were alight with appreciation and smoldering with desire at the same time. Was that all she needed? Someone to be there for her? Jax could do that. He _would_ do that. She smashed her lips into his with a sudden urgency, coiling her body around his. Jax smiled at the familiarity their closeness brought. Her rhythms, her scent, her taste- it was quickly becoming second nature to him.

He slid his hands up and down the contours of the body he'd spent the night fantasizing about, trying not to let his hormones overrule his mind. He wanted her, _bad_. But more than he wanted her body, he wanted her heart. He had to earn that first.

Tara moaned quietly as her tongue worked against Jax's, losing herself in him. She clutched at his shoulders, his chest, and then at his belt buckle. He froze.

"Tara."

She frowned. "Jax, I'm a big girl. I want this. And I know you want this. I can feel it." She pressed her hands to the bulge in his pants, smiling suggestively. He let out a frustrated groan.

"Babe, we talked about this. I want your first time to be special." Tara kissed him again, slipping her hand between his bare skin and the waistline of his jeans.

"It will be," she breathed. Jax pulled away from her, untangling her body from his so that he could stand up.

"No," he insisted. "Not like this. Come with me." Tara eagerly took his hand, clearly under the impression that Jax was taking her somewhere more private to devirginize her. He wasn't, but she didn't need to know that. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

"Where are we?" Tara asked, watching Jax as he hung their helmets on the handle bar of his bike.

He smiled. "You'll see." Tara seemed disappointed that Jax hadn't taken them to a hotel, or back to his house. It made him happy, but it also made him uneasy. He was about to share a very vulnerable part of himself with her, and he was worried she wouldn't appreciate it. She seemed to have a one track mind at the moment.

He linked his fingers through hers and led her down a dirt path that cut between two buildings. It had been a long time- too long- since he'd been here. A familiar stench assaulted his sense of smell as they approached their destination- a giant barn with bright red paint and white trim, with windows along both sides. Tara covered the lower half of her face with her hand as they walked through an open door on the front side of the barn, trying to hide from the overpowering smell.

"Seriously, Jax, where are we?" Her voice was muffled. He grinned, a boyish grin that reached his eyes. Before he could answer her, an elderly man in overalls stepped out of one of the stalls, covered in dust and hay.

"Hey, Walter!" Jax called out, waving. "It's Jackson Teller." The man came closer, displaying a set of yellowing teeth as he smiled.

"Jackson, my boy! Long time no see! How's it going?" He clapped Jax on the back as he approached, then turned his attention to Tara.

"I'm good! Walter, this is Tara. Tara, Walter. We just came to visit Harley."

"Of course, of course," Walter nodded. "Well, she's right where ya left her. Come find me before ya leave. I'm right in the middle of something right now." Without waiting for a response, Walter returned to his work. He'd never been much for small talk.

Tara looked at Jax, curious. "Who's Harley?" Rather than tell her, he decided to show her. He pulled her down the rustic corridor, toward the end of the building. He counted as they passed identical gates.

"Twenty seven," he finally said, stopping in front of one. "Tara, I'd like you to meet Harley." A chestnut colored horse stood with its head hanging over the gate. Jax patted it gingerly on its side. Tara made no attempt to hide her surprise.

"A horse? Jax Teller, Mr. Badass Biker, has a horse?" She giggled.

"Actually, she was my little brother's horse. It was the one thing he wanted when he got sick, to have his very own horse to ride. So my dad got him one." Tara's expression changed.

"Oh, Jax, I'm sorry, I didn't know." He didn't look away from the horse, just continued to stroke her silky red coat and mane.

"Of course, Thomas never was well enough to actually ride her, but he would groom her, feed her, make me ride her." He chuckled at the memory. "After Thomas died, mom sold her back to the farm. But Walter's a good guy. Still lets me come visit and ride her whenever I want."

"She's beautiful." Tara's voice was soft, contemplative. She reached a weary hand toward the horse. "May I?" Jax placed his hand over hers and guided her as she touched the lone patch of white hair on Harley's coat.

"You ever ride?" Jax asked. Tara shook her head. "Well then, you're in for a treat."

He opened the gate, connected a lead to Harley's bridle, and led her out of the barn. Tara kept her distance. By the time she reached the fenced-in meadow where Jax was saddling the horse, he was almost finished.

"Come on," he called to her.

"No, I-"

"Tara, come on. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise." She approached him reluctantly. "Let me show you," he said, breathing in her sweet scent as he helped her put her foot in the stirrup. "Now hold on here, and then just use that leg to kind of throw yourself up there." Tara's muscles shook as she tried to hoist herself up onto the saddle. Jax gave her a boost, trying not to focus on the fact that his hands were on her ass. She grunted, using him as a pushing-off point. She landed with an awkward thud atop Thomas' horse, her face nearly as red as Harley's coat.

"Well that was harder than it looked," she lamented, out of breath. Jax squinted up at her, trying to block out the sunlight, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Now just put your other foot in the other stirrup, and hold on." Tara looked down at Jax, a worried expression on her face.

"Jax, I-"

"You can do this," he assured her. "We'll go slow." Why was he taking everything so slow with her?

Jax walked beside Tara and Harley through the meadow. At first, Tara seemed nervous. After a little while, though, she relaxed and began to enjoy herself. Jax could almost hear his little brother laughing from the other side of the fence. _"Go faster, Jax!"_ he would yell as Jax rode Harley at a steady pace. _"The Indians are coming!"_ There was an ache in Jax's chest, one that always began to throb whenever he thought of Thomas.

He turned to Tara. She'd never be able to fill the hole his brother's death left in his heart, but she was carving out a spot all her own, one that was growing larger by the moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, her voice uneven as she bobbed up and down with Harley's movements.

"You and Donna, Opie's girl. Seems to be some tension there."

"What's your question?"

"My question is, why? You guys have history or somethin'?"

Tara shrugged. "Ancient history, I guess. Second grade, Joey Lopez. Donna had a crush on him, but he liked me- I think more because of the chocolate pudding cups I used to take in my lunch every day than because of his desire to make a lifelong commitment, but ya know. Anyway, she's just hated me ever since. She thinks I'm stuck up, I think she's trashy." Tara paused on the word, as if she was worried it would offend Jax. It didn't, but her reaction to it did. "Trashy" was often thrown around by the people in town who opposed SAMCRO's presence there. Was Tara one of them?

"Trashy, huh?" He tried to sound pissed, but the hurt in his voice was evident.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded. I mean the way she acts, all loud and mean and slutty, she's just trashy. Not because she's dating Opie or anything." Tara stumbled over the words, eager for Jax to forgive her. He accepted her answer, but still seemed bothered. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to say, and then changed the subject.

"So Joey Lopez, huh? Should I be worried?" Tara laughed, a loud laugh that originated in her gut. It made Jax smile.

"Can I ask you something else?"

Tara sighed. "You're just full of questions today, huh? Go ahead. Shoot."

"Why were you so upset this morning?" Jax asked the question cautiously, aware that he was breaking his promise to let it go. He wasn't sure why Tara being upset bothered him so much, but he had to know who'd hurt her.

Tara exhaled, shaking her head. "Just my dad, like I said. He was pissed that I came home so late last night. He probably wouldn't have noticed, except stupid David showed up to take me out to dinner for my birthday, so my dad realized I wasn't home, and it just turned into a whole big thing that carried over into this morning."

"David? David Hale?" Jax knew he was focusing on the wrong part of Tara's story, but he couldn't help it.

"Yes," she said simply, as if it was no big deal.

"Thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend?" Jax studied the ground as he walked, trying to look like he didn't care half as much as he did.

"He isn't. I told you, I don't have a boyfriend." Jax stopped and looked up at Tara, who was petting Harley gently.

"You want one?" he asked. Tara turned to him, her eyes wide.

"Are you- are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yes." Jax's voice was quiet, and lacked its usual confidence.

"Okay," Tara said without hesitation. She began giggling uncontrollably as she tried to climb down from the horse. Jax reached up with both arms to help her, but her foot got tangled in one of the stirrups and she fell, taking Jax down with her. She landed directly on top of him, her face just inches from his.

"Ow," he groaned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Are you okay?" Tara inspected him for injuries. He took her face in his hands and pulled it toward his. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft, joyful breath just before he kissed her. She pressed her body hard against his as Jax moved one hand to the small of her back, kissing her all the while. He couldn't remember the last time he'd officially had a girlfriend. But he couldn't imagine Tara being anything else. She smiled at him between kisses, and he knew he was close to achieving his goal- she was falling in love with him. But he was falling harder.


	5. Chapter 5

Tara could have spent her entire day kissing Jax in the meadow, but she had a report due in AP History, her last class of the day. She took a deep breath as Jax helped her off his bike, staring warily up at the school. This would be her first time there in nearly two days. During that time, her entire world had changed. Yesterday morning, she was just boring old Tara Knowles, trying to hurry through the misery of her sixteenth birthday. Now, she was Jax Teller's girlfriend. That meant something. What, she wasn't sure.

She waited for Jax, unsure of how he would treat her in public, in front of their peers. Whispering sweet nothings into her ear when they were alone was one thing, but how would he act when they had an audience? Tara was about to find out. When he was finished fiddling with his bike, he turned to her and smiled. Not a polite, "how do I get rid of her?" smile, but a genuine, happy smile. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing her on the forehead.

"You ready?" he asked. Tara grinned, slipping her arm around his waist. She was. As they made their way toward the school, Jax looked down at his new girlfriend and spoke, his lips moving against her hair, tickling her scalp. "I suppose I should ask how you feel about public displays of affection, but I don't think I'd be able to keep my hands off you either way. I want everyone to know you're my girl. Especially David _fucking_ Hale." Tara was at a loss for words. Was he serious? He was worried that _she_ might not want to show _him_ off? She was the one who'd hit the boyfriend jackpot. If she were a screamer, or a climber, she'd have shouted it from the school's rooftop.

The stares began before they even crossed the threshold of the school. Well, the guys were staring. The girls were glaring. All of them. It was a good thing Tara didn't care what others thought of her, otherwise she might not be able to handle the scrutiny that came with being Jax Teller's girlfriend.

The shock among the student body was palpable. "What is _he_ doing with _her_?" Tara couldn't tell if people were actually saying the words aloud, or if she was just imagining them, but that was definitely what everyone was thinking. Either way, Jax didn't seem to notice. He just smiled and whistled, glancing at Tara every couple of minutes as they walked to her locker.

Just outside the cafeteria, they ran into Opie and Donna. Opie offered them a mischievous grin, clearly amused by the sudden turn of events in his best friend's life. Donna's smile was more condescending, but less harsh than it had been the day before.

"Oh goodie," she quipped. "Now I'm not the only member of the 'girls who aren't good enough for their boyfriends' club." The words stung, but only because Tara knew they were true. If Jax was at the top of the high school heartthrob list, Opie was a close second. Tara had never given much thought to what that must be like for Donna, having a whole school full of people who deemed her unworthy of Opie's attention. Maybe that was a part of the reason why she was so bitter. Only a part, though.

Tara saw the looks on Jax and Opie's faces, both of them ready to admonish Donna for being mean to poor little Tara. She didn't want that. If she was going to survive as Jax's girlfriend, she had to learn to fend for herself.

"Guess so," she said, locking eyes with Donna. "Should we get t-shirts made? Start holding meetings?" Donna let slip the hint of a smile. Jax's face relaxed, as did Opie's.

"You guys going to the clubhouse after school?" Opie asked. Donna had both of her twig-like arms wrapped around one of his impressive biceps. The way she clung to him left no question that they were sleeping together. Tara wondered if it would be that obvious once she and Jax began having sex. If they ever did.

"I don't know," Jax said, turning to Tara. "Babe, do you have plans after school?" _Babe._ Tara could get used to that.

She did. "I don't," she lied. Her father made her promise that she would go straight home after school. She was grounded, whatever that meant in Sean Knowles' world. But he'd broken plenty of promises to her, and let her down more times than she could count. She'd spent many a night sitting up, wondering where he was and if he was okay. It was his turn to worry. If he could even manage to stay up late enough to bother.

"Then we'll be there," Jax assumed. "I mean- if you want…"

"I do," Tara said. "Sounds like fun." Jax and Opie embraced each other in a quick, manly hug. Tara bit her lip, trying not to smile. They didn't look like the kind of guys that would hug. But they did it without even thinking, and without the slightest bit of concern for what anyone had to say about it. People could have their opinions about the motorcycle club that Jax and Opie were born into, and they did, but no one could deny the beauty of the club's unabashed camaraderie and love for one another. It was rare. And sort of beautiful.

Jax and Tara continued toward her locker, him oblivious to the eyes on them, and her doing her best to ignore them. She didn't care what anyone else thought. There was only one person she really didn't want to run into, and it was the tall boy making his way straight toward her, his eyes on fire.

"Shit," she muttered, turning her face into Jax's shoulder. She hoped he would pick up on her discomfort and steer them out of David Hale's path, but judging by the way his chest puffed out and his posture stiffened, that was unlikely.

"Hey, David," Jax taunted, a satisfied smile on his face. "How's it going?" David stopped a few feet from them, his eyes shifting from Jax to Tara and back.

"Jax." His voice was cold, almost robotic. "Tara. I trust you had a good birthday." Guilt panged inside the walls of her chest. David might be annoying, but he didn't deserve to be hurt the way she'd hurt him. The reason she stood him up was glaringly obvious, there was no point in trying to make up excuses or deny it. Still, she could at least apologize.

She cleared her throat. "David…"

"My girl had an amazing night," Jax interrupted, squeezing Tara's waist, pulling her close. "Thanks for asking." The pain in David's face was almost unbearable to look at. Tara wanted to say something, anything, to take it away. But it wouldn't do any good. The situation was what it was. The only thing she might accomplish by reaching out to him would be upsetting Jax in the process, and that was out of the question. So instead of doing the right thing, the thing her gut was screaming at her to do, she averted her eyes and allowed Jax to humiliate the boy who'd been in love with her since preschool, the closest thing to a friend she'd ever had.

"Awesome," David lied, sounding like a strangled cat. "Well, you and…_your girl_…enjoy the rest of your day." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked the other way, leaving Tara in a fog of Old Spice and shame.

"Jackass," Jax chuckled, kissing Tara's temple. She swallowed hard.

"Yeah." She smiled, not wanting Jax to see how badly she felt. David shouldn't matter to her, not anymore. She was Jax Teller's girl now. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

'Jax Teller's Girl.' That had been Tara's official title for nearly three months, and she still wasn't used to it. She did her best to fill the role- started wearing a little more makeup, spent a bit more time on her hair in the mornings. Every day, she wore the leather wrist cuff Jax gave her for their one month anniversary, and she was never without the pager he got her so that he could always get a hold of her.

She rode to school with him every morning and went to the clubhouse with him after school every day. They spent their weekends together, as well as many a stolen afternoon when they were supposed to be in school. The clubhouse was becoming Tara's second home. Gemma was slowly but surely warming up to her, and Donna was almost what she would call a friend. Almost. Opie slipped effortlessly into a big brother-like role, and Tara adored Bobby and Chibs. The rest of the club members still scared her, Clay especially, so she did her best to avoid them. In her defense, they were all hardened criminals with police records a mile long.

She was no longer afraid of Jax's motorcycle, and often begged him to teach her how to ride it. She paid no attention to the disapproving looks she constantly got from her peers and teachers alike, and didn't much care that her grades were slipping, or that David and her father barely spoke to her anymore.

Tara had integrated herself seamlessly into her new life, the life of an MC princess. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything. Jax still wouldn't have sex with her. Because he was Tara's first boyfriend, she had no idea what it meant to be in love- but she couldn't imagine anything feeling stronger than this. Still, they hadn't said the "L" word yet. Jax had more relationship experience than she did, by a mile, so she was trusting him to make the decision as to when they were officially "in love."

It was hard though. Sometimes they got soooo, so close to making love…and then Jax would shut it down. How did he have such self control, when she didn't? He was a teenage boy. And he'd had sex before. It killed Tara to think that he'd been close like that with other girls, but not with her. And it was the one thing that kept her from being completely secure in their relationship. Girls were constantly throwing themselves at Jax- girls he'd had sex with before, girls who knew what they were doing in bed. The longer Jax denied Tara, the more she worried that he would eventually give in to one of them, if he hadn't already.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Donna asked, interrupting Tara's train of thought. She slid in next to Tara at their usual lunch table, at the far end of the patio. It was the only one that the sunlight reached, and the closest to the parking lot. Jax and Opie were tinkering with Opie's bike, which Opie was convinced had something wrong with it, while the girls watched them and ate undercooked cafeteria pizza.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking," Tara said. She removed a half frozen pepperoni from her slice of pizza and then took a small bite. "Where were you this morning? Didn't see you after first hour."

Donna shook her head in protest, shoving her tray across the table. "Bathroom. I've been really nauseous the past couple of days. And this crap's not helping. I think I'm coming down with the flu." Tara frowned, scooting further away from Donna.

"Gross. Don't get me sick."

"Thanks for the concern, ass…" Donna readied herself to throw her straw wrapper at Tara, but stopped when she saw the murderous look in Tara's eyes. She followed Tara's gaze to where Jax and Opie were standing, talking to a group of four girls dressed like hookers, only two of whom Tara recognized.

"Who's that?" Tara's voice was flat, her eyes fixed on a tall blonde with long, curly hair, who was wearing short shorts and a hot pink tank top, and had her hand on Jax's shoulder. Apparently, Jax was telling some killer jokes, judging by the way blondie was laughing.

Donna drew in a sharp breath. "Wendy Case. Graduated last year. Her cousin is a crow-eater." Donna watched the way Tara's body tensed, her fists clenched at her sides. "You're gonna have to get used to it, you know. It's only gonna get worse once the guys get patched in. Either that, or you'll have to show these bitches their place."

"What, like fight them?" Tara asked. Donna laughed. The thought of Tara in a fist fight was ridiculous.

"Fight them, tell them off, maybe a give them a well-timed slap across the face so that Jax can jump in before they get ya back. But you've gotta do something, chick. Look at you. You're a mess." Tara shook her head. She wasn't a fighter. The rage bubbling up in her stomach, threatening to choke her, however, didn't seem to know that. She took deep breaths, trying to lower her blood pressure. She was almost there, _almost_, when the blonde bimbo Donna called Wendy reached up and tucked a lock of Jax's hair behind his ear. In hindsight, there were many, much worse things she could have done. But in that moment, Tara saw red.

She jumped up from the table and stalked across the parking lot, Donna on her heels. Jax saw her approaching, saw the angry look on her face, and smirked. He'd never seen Tara jealous before, which was likely why he found it cute rather than alarming. He had no idea what she was capable of. But then again, neither did she.

"Hey," she yelled, stepping between Jax and Wendy. "What do you think you're doing?" Donna slipped in under Opie's arm, trying not to let it show how much she was enjoying what was happening.

"We're havin' a conversation here," the blonde said, all attitude. She smacked on her gum as she stared Tara down. "Who the hell are you?"

Tara's cheeks were bright red, her hands shaking. She'd never been so angry before.

"I'm Jax's girlfriend," Tara hissed, staking her claim.

"_You_? No way." Wendy and her friends began to laugh. "Your tits haven't even come in yet." Without warning, Tara charged at Wendy, shoving her to the ground. Before the older girl could dig her heels into the gravel to get back up, Tara was on top of her, swinging and clawing at her face.

"Oh shit!" Donna whispered, her hand over her mouth. Jax and Opie were too stunned to move, watching in horror as Wendy thrashed under Tara's weight, screaming and crying out for help. Wendy's friends were yelling at Tara to let her go, but did nothing to try to help her. It wasn't until Tara curled her hands around Wendy's neck and began to squeeze that Jax sprung into action, pulled from his shock by the sound of Wendy choking and gasping for air.

"Tara!" he shouted. He grabbed his girlfriend under her arms and tried to pull her away, but she was stronger than he'd ever given her credit for. "Tara, stop!" Opie ran to his aid, prying Tara's hands from Wendy's neck. Jax lifted her into his arms, his face red from the effort. "Stop," he whispered into her ear as she struggled against him. He held her close, trying to calm her down. "Babe, stop."

Wendy's friends helped her up. She sobbed quietly as blood poured from her nose.

"You bitch!" she screamed. Tara turned around to face her just as Wendy picked up a decent-sized rock and chucked it at her. It hit Tara in the mouth, splitting her lip. Tara lunged at Wendy again, but Opie scooped her up before she even got close. He held her in his arms as she thrashed and kicked, Jax and Donna watching wide eyed.

Donna shook her head, in total disbelief. "What the hell have you done to her, Jax?"

* * *

Tara walked out of the principal's office with her head down, her father leading her. She was holding an ice pack to her lip and had first aid tape wrapped around her bruised knuckles. She pretended she didn't see Jax sitting in a chair just outside the office door.

"Tara," he called out to her as she passed. She didn't turn around. "Tara!" He sprinted after her, catching her by the elbow. "Tara." She looked at him, her eyes full of tears and guilt.

"Young man," Sean Knowles interrupted, his voice deep and weary. "I want you to stay away from my daughter." Jax let go of Tara's arm.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't trying to hurt her. I'm Jax Teller, Tara's boyfriend, and I just-"

"I know who you are." Sean's voice was firm, cold. "And I know that since my daughter has been dating you, her grades have been slipping, she's flunking out of three different classes, she's been skipping school, and now she's getting into fights and getting suspended? You're a bad influence, Mr. Teller. And I don't want you anywhere near my daughter. Got it?" Jax looked as if he'd been kicked in the gut. He locked eyes with Tara, waiting for her to stand up to her father like she stood up to Wendy, to defend their relationship. But Tara simply bit her lip to stop herself from crying, and then kept walking. Her father followed her.

The bell rang and the halls filled with students, many of whom had seen the fight. They watched Tara with scandalous eyes. They mulled around Jax, but he was a statue, planted to the floor in the exact spot where his heart had been broken.


	6. Chapter 6

Jax twisted and turned the brown bottle in his hands, watching the carbonated liquid inside slosh around. It was supposed to make him feel fuzzy enough to forget the awfulness of the day, but it was only making him feel worse. It went down like hot lava and churned in his belly.

"If Gemma sees you drinking that, she's going to kick your ass," Opie warned, taking a seat next to Jax at their favorite table in the SAMCRO clubhouse.

It had been three hours since Tara left Jax standing in the middle of the hall, accused of corrupting and ruining her. His nerves were still raw, and he had no idea what to do about the unfamiliar ache in his chest that her absence brought.

They'd spent nearly every waking minute together for the past three months, and now he didn't know when he would see her again. She was suspended for a week, likely grounded for longer. And after that- who knew if she would even want to see Jax again.

Donna's accusation buzzed in his head like a swarm of angry bees, _"What have you done to her?"_ And Sean Knowles' harsh words twisted in his gut, _"Stay away from my daughter!"_ How had things gotten so fucked up? And how the hell had Jax not even noticed? All he'd been trying to do was make Tara happy, to love her. But at what cost?

He often thought about how different Tara was from the perception he'd had of her his entire life. But now he had to wonder- how much of that was genuine, and how much of it was her playing a part, trying to be what she thought an MC girlfriend should be? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

He raised a defiant eyebrow at Opie as he took another swig of beer, regretting it instantly. He was already on his third, and it was nowhere close to doing its job. Maybe some wounds were too deep to be healed by alcohol.

"You talked to Tara yet?" Opie asked.

Jax shook his head. "Nah, man. It's done."

"What the hell you mean it's done?"

"Her dad, bro. Told me to stay away from her." He took another drink, finally beginning to feel the dullness in his head he'd been waiting for.

"Who gives a fuck what that old drunk thinks? Tara's your girl, bro. She's good for you."

"But am I good for her?" Jax let the words linger, let them sink in. He already knew the answer to that question. And so did Opie.

"That's bullshit," Opie finally said. But he and Jax both knew it wasn't.

"So, where's Donna?" Jax changed the subject. If he was going to begin the task of getting over Tara, he had to start by not talking about her.

"Ah, we had a fight." Opie waved his hand nonchalantly, seeming to want to dismiss the idea of Donna altogether. Jax chuckled. Opie and Donna fought almost as much as they fucked. It was always either one extreme or the other with them. "She's being such a bitch lately!"

"She's always a bitch, dude," Jax reminded him.

Opie laughed. "Yeah, well, worse than normal. I don't know what the fuck her problem is." Jax set his beer down on the table and pushed it toward Opie. Normally, Opie wouldn't dare be so brazen with his father around. But his nerves were shot. He took a drink and smiled.

The door to the clubhouse opened, letting in a burst of sunshine. Jax squinted as he watched two shadowy figures make their way toward him- Shauna, the crow-eater who was messing around with Tig, and her cousin Wendy, the girl whose face Tara had maimed earlier in the day.

"Jax!" Shauna's voice was terse. "What the hell happened today? Look at my cousin's face!" Wendy had a deep purple bruise under her left eye, a scrape on her right cheek, and her nose looked a little askew.

"Ouch," Opie chuckled, taking in the sight of her.

"Why don't you ask your cousin what happened?" Jax said. "She was there." The last thing Jax needed was to relive what went down between Tara and Wendy. He'd been trying all day to forget it.

"Well you tell that little skank of yours that I'm gonna find her, and I'm gonna beat the shit out of her," Shauna threatened, tossing her teased brown hair over her shoulder. Jax flew out of his seat, stopping just inches from Shauna's face.

"Try it," he warned. "You lay one finger on Tara and I will fucking end you. You feel me, whore?" Shauna's eyes widened. It wasn't often that Jax let the rage monster inside him loose, but when he did, it terrified people. _Good._ That would be an important weapon to have once he became an official member of the club. "Now get the fuck outta here."

Shauna retreated, walking backwards so as not to turn her back to Jax, afraid of what he might do. "Come on, Wendy."

Wendy shook her head. "I need to talk to Jax," she said quietly. "I'm sorry about my cousin, she's a little nuts. I don't want to hurt your girl. I really did just come here to talk to you. Think we can go somewhere?" Jax's first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but considering she'd just taken a beating because of him, he felt a slight sense of obligation.

He nodded. "Five minutes."

He led Wendy down the hall to the small apartment attached to the back of the clubhouse, the one members used when they needed to sleep off a bender, or they were fighting with or cheating on their old ladies. The room was dusty, dark, and reeked of booze and sex. Jax sat down on the bed, trying not to think of how much bacteria was swimming on those blankets.

"Talk," he said. Wendy took a careful seat beside him.

"I just…I wanted to apologize. For today. I wasn't trying to cause any trouble, you know. I'm sorry if I did." Jax didn't know her well enough to know if she was being genuine, but he decided to take her at her word.

"It wasn't your fault," he admitted. It really wasn't. "Tara just…overreacted."

"I'll say." Wendy chuckled a bit. Jax tried not to smile. "So that's your girl?"

Jax shook his head. "I don't know what she is anymore."

"Oh. Well if you're lookin' for an upgrade…" Wendy let her sentence trail off as she placed her hand in the middle of Jax's thigh. Jax turned to look at her. Her brown eyes were sparkling with desire. Aside from her injuries, she was sort of beautiful- long, blonde hair; delicate, angular features; tight little body. She was exactly the type of girl Jax would have gone for, before Tara. Maybe she was the type of girl he needed to go back to now.

Jax allowed the alcohol in his blood to work its magic- to cloud his judgment and block out the voice in his head screaming at him to stop- Tara's voice. He leaned in closer to Wendy, until their noses were touching. She let out a quiet sigh, bringing one hand up to Jax's face. He closed his eyes and kissed her, allowing her tongue to coax his into compliance. He slid his hand up her shirt and squeezed her breast, more of a handful than he'd become used to.

It would be so easy for him to just take her right there. She would give herself to him willingly, he knew that. He could fuck her, release all of his pent up emotions into her, then go on with his life and never think of her again. Maybe that was exactly what he needed.

But then Wendy bit his lower lip, the way Tara so often did, and he froze. _Tara._ Her laugh, her smile, the way her skin felt on his. Her hair, falling in her face as she helped Jax work on his bike; the way her eyes were always so full of trust and love. _Oh God._ He retreated from Wendy as if she'd grown a second head, leaving her half laying, half sitting on the bed, her legs spread wide, lipstick smeared all over her face, her eyes wild. She was nothing more than a sad consolation prize, one that he wanted nothing to do with.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, wiping her cheap lipstick from his mouth. "I can't." He opened the door and stumbled out of the room.

* * *

Jax was sitting at a picnic table outside the clubhouse when Shauna and Wendy stormed out. Shauna glared at him, but Wendy's eyes were fixed on the ground. He almost felt bad for her. What a shitty day she'd had. Opie said nothing, just shook his head at Jax, an amused smirk on his face.

Jax took a long drag from the cigarette he was holding, then passed it to Opie. His head was spinning, and it wasn't because of the beer. Unfortunately, he was stone cold sober. What the hell was he going to do about Tara? Should he even try to talk to her, or would it be best just to let her go? Could he even do that?

A motorcycle roared into the parking lot, snapping Jax out of his wallowing. He recognized Clay's bike at once, all sparkling chrome and sleek black. What he didn't see was that there was someone on his bike with him. Clay parked the bike and climbed off, Gemma Teller following his lead.

"Holy shit," Opie muttered, eyeing Jax wearily. Gemma linked her hand through Clay's, the two of them approaching Jax and Opie with smiles. They looked light, happy, not like two people who were about to reveal their sordid affair to the world.

"Jax, honey, I'm glad you're here. We need to talk to you." _We? _Since when were Clay and Gemma a "we?"

"Not now, Mom," Jax cautioned.

"Don't sass your mother," Clay said, his voice stern and way too fatherly. Jax stood up, his jaw clenched. He wanted to punch Clay dead in his face, to take out all of his frustration on the man who was trying to replace his father- both in the club, and in his life.

"Honey," Gemma said softly, patting Clay's chest. Jax glared at her accusingly. "Jackson, we have some good news." Jax planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're getting married!" Gemma shoved her left hand into his face, displaying an impressive diamond that adorned her ring finger. When had she even stopped wearing her wedding ring? And when had she decided that it was okay to go from "just friends" to fiancées? And how the hell did she expect Jax to react to that?

Opie drew in a sharp breath, rising to Jax's side. He could sense him about to explode. Instead, Jax laughed, shaking his head.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he sneered. His mother looked surprised, like she actually expected him to be happy for her. Jax pushed past Clay and headed for his bike. He had to get the hell out of there.

"Hey!" Clay yelled.

"Just let him go," Gemma said, defeated.

* * *

Jax sped through the hills, much faster than he should, trying to shed his pain. Everything was changing, and not in a good way. Tara was gone. Clay was marrying his mother. And he was powerless to do anything about any of it. He wanted to disappear. And maybe he should. He had a couple hundred bucks in his wallet. He could spend fifty bucks on gas, drive as far as that would take him, then spend the rest on a cheap motel room and food. Maybe some time away was what he needed.

He pulled into the first gas station he came to and parked his bike in front of the closest pump to the road. He sat there for a moment, trying to make up his mind. Did he really want to do this? Yes, yes, he did. As he reached for his wallet, his pager went off. He glanced at it. _911_. Tara. 911 was their emergency code- it meant "Stop whatever you're doing and come find me. I need you."

Jax sighed. She needed him. And he needed her. Or at the very least, he needed closure.

* * *

Jax parked his bike around the corner from Tara's house, not wanting Sean to hear it and come after him. He crept through the side yard, to Tara's window, hoping he would find her there. His entire body relaxed when he saw her, sitting in her window, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her eyes thoughtful. Her split lip was barely noticeable, just a tiny crack in her perfect, porcelain face. Tara was his oxygen. He needed her to breathe. He knew that now, as the weight he'd been carrying lifted from his chest.

She smiled when she saw him, her eyes filling with tears. The window was already open, so she reached out her arms to him and he helped her down. She squeezed Jax tight, breathing in the scent of him. He hugged her back, trying to shake the guilt of his earlier indiscretion with Wendy. How could he betray her like that?

"Jax," she breathed. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I don't know what happened to me." She kissed his neck and his face, her body pleading for his forgiveness.

"It's not your fault," he told her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't Wendy's fault. It was all his fault. And he had to be the one to fix it.

"Baby, please don't be mad at me," she whispered, hooking her bruised hands through his belt loops and pulling his waist into hers.

"I'm not mad. But Tara-" he paused and let out a long breath, unsure if he could go through with it. He'd resigned himself to breaking his own heart, but he didn't know if he could break hers. This would be easier if she was mad at him. She _should_ be mad at him.

"What is it?" she asked, her brow furrowed. She could see the tension in his face. "If it's about my dad, I'm sorry for what he said. And I'm sorry I didn't tell him to shove it, I was just so freaked out. I've never been in a fight before."

Jax took Tara's hands in his. "Tara, your dad was right." His words were quiet, his voice thick with emotion.

"What? No. No, he wasn't." Tara shook her head.

"He was." Jax kept his tone even, hoping his voice wouldn't break. "I'm no good for you, and it's selfish for me to keep bringing you down. You were a straight A student with perfect attendance, and now you're skipping school, failing classes, getting in cat fights. It's my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Jax…" Tara searched his eyes, tears filling her own.

"You're gonna be a doctor, Tara. Not just some old lady. It was wrong for me to pull you away from that. You need to get back to it. Focus on school, on your goals."

"That's stupid," Tara said, dismissing his words. "I can be with you and still have a life."

"No. You can't. How many old ladies have you seen that do anything other than hang out at the clubhouse all day? I don't want that for you. I'm goin' nowhere Tara, but you- you can get out of this shithole town. Get your grades back up. Get your scholarship. Go to college on the coast somewhere. Live the life you've always wanted."

"Jax, the life I want is with you, don't-" She reached for him, but he pulled away. He couldn't give in, couldn't change his mind. Not now. No matter how much it hurt him, or her, he was speaking the truth. He had to stop thinking about himself and start thinking about Tara, and what was best for her.

"I'm sorry, Tara," he said. "It has to be over between us. We're too different. It can't work." Tara clutched at her chest, as if she was physically trying to hold her heart together, to keep it from ripping in two. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as she let out short, tiny sobs. Jax kissed her on the forehead, allowing his lips to linger on her skin for longer than he intended, and then walked away. He should have felt lighter. He was doing the right thing. He'd said everything he came to say. Well, except for the one thing that would have changed everything. "I love you," he whispered, quietly enough that she couldn't hear him.


	7. Chapter 7

Tara paced back and forth in front of her bedroom window, waiting for Jax to return. He would change his mind. He had to. It had been a crazy day and emotions were running high. That's all it was. He would realize how insane the idea that he wasn't good enough for her was, and he would come back.

_But what if he didn't?_ The more time that passed, the more worried Tara became that Jax's words weren't idle threats. _What_ _if he meant it all?_ She felt sick to her stomach. She'd cried so much and for so long that her eyes were red and puffy, her nose swollen, and her throat raw. What if what he really meant was that _she_ wasn't good enough for _him, _and that he no longer wanted to be burdened with some goody-two-shoes masquerading as a biker's girlfriend? That made more sense than anything else.

Tara sat down on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes, taking deep, uneven breaths. _Think._ She remembered the look on Jax's face as he ended their relationship- the deep pain in his eyes. No, he truly believed that he'd ruined and corrupted her, and that if she stayed with him, she would regret it. She had to show him that wasn't true. She had to do something- something big.

With shaking hands, she reached for the phone on her nightstand. She could page Jax again, but he wouldn't respond. She could call his house, but Gemma would most likely answer. And if Gemma knew about Tara's fight at school, she'd be furious with her for causing trouble for Jax. Like Gemma really needed another reason to dislike her. Instead, she dialed a number that she'd only called a couple times before.

Donna picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Donna, it's Tara. I need your help."

* * *

The sun was just starting to set as Tara and Donna pulled up to an apartment building on the east side of town. Tara parked her dad's car in a nearby alley, in the off chance that he'd reported it stolen. Hopefully, he was too drunk to notice that she, and it, was gone.

"So this is where Bobby Elvis lives?" she mused. The building was old, but not run down- red brick with white trim, with identical windows in dozens of neat rows. In the center of the building was a set of glass double doors. Sitting on the stoop outside of them was Bobby, staring up at the clouds and smoking something that likely was not a cigarette.

Donna grabbed the small brown bag sitting beside her and stuffed it in her purse before getting out of the car. Tara pretended not to notice. Donna had asked her to stop at a pharmacy on the way to Bobby's place, but insisted on going inside alone. After a few minutes, she came out with a small paper sack clutched tightly to her chest. She didn't tell Tara what was in it, but Tara had an idea.

"Ladies," Bobby crooned, giving them both big, creepy hugs. One whiff of his earthly scent confirmed that he definitely wasn't smoking a cigarette. "We ready to get crackin'?" Tara smiled, nodding excitedly. She should have been more nervous, but she was too determined.

The inside of Bobby's apartment was much smaller than Tara expected, but the décor was spot-on what she'd pictured. She felt as if she'd stepped into the 1970s. She took a seat on a red velvet sofa against the back wall of the living room. Donna sat down beside her.

"I got my tools all set up in the kitchen," Bobby said. "Who's goin' first?" Tara stood up.

"I'm not doing it today, Bobby. I told you that on the phone," Donna reminded him.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled. He turned to Tara. "You sure about this, Doc?" He began calling her "Doc" soon after she told him about her desire to go to medical school. It made her feel a little silly, but it was nice that he had such confidence in her.

Tara sighed, smiling. "I'm sure. It won't hurt too badly, will it?"

"Not too bad," Bobby assured her.

Bobby Elvis was a liar. Tara wiped tears from her eyes, the skin on her lower back on fire. Her teeth hurt from her clenching them together so tightly, and she had indentations in the palms of her hands from balling them into fists for so long. It was over, but she still felt as if she was being attacked by a thousand hornets with stingers of steel.

Bobby was outside smoking again, and Donna had been in the bathroom for an oddly long amount of time. Impatient, Tara knocked on the door.

"You alright in there?" Bobby's only full-sized mirror was in the bathroom, and Tara couldn't wait to put it to use.

"Come in," Donna said, sounding like she'd been crying. Tara slowly turned the knob and pushed open the door. Donna was using the toilet as a chair, the lid down, and had her elbows resting on her knees, her face held up by her hands.

"Everything okay?" Tara tried not to look at the small white stick sitting on the counter near the sink, but Donna made no attempt to hide it.

"It's not the flu." Donna's voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands. Sometimes, Tara hated being right. This was one of those times.

"I had a feeling," she said, resting a comforting hand on Donna's back. "Is there anything I can do?" Donna looked up at her, her eyes full of tears.

"Just don't tell Jax, okay? Don't tell anybody."

Tara nodded. "Of course." Donna pressed her hands to her face and took a deep breath, wiping away her tears, stretching her skin far out to the sides in the process. Under different circumstances, Tara might have laughed.

"Aaaaaaah," Donna half sighed, half screamed. "Okay, let's see it. How's it look?

Tara positioned herself in front of the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, turning around. She lifted up her shirt and craned her neck around so that she could see her reflection. On the small of her back was a black crow, its wings outstretched, holding two arrows in its talons, with a heart around its neck and a scroll across its midsection that said, "FOREVER." _Forever._ It certainly was.

"Bad _ass_," Donna laughed, her voice lighter. Tara beamed with pride.

"I'm an old lady," she said, mostly to herself.

"And I'm pregnant," Donna added. The two girls locked eyes in the mirror. They were stuck together for life now.

* * *

Tara shifted uncomfortably behind the steering wheel, trying to keep her back from touching the seat. Bobby had given her some Ibuprofen, so what was once a searing pain was more of a dull ache now. She'd dropped Donna off at home after promising she would keep her secret no less than a hundred times. Jax's house was just around the corner. It was time to put phase two of her plan into action.

She parked a couple of houses down from Jax's and snuck to his bedroom window, the same way he'd done at her house earlier in the day. She prayed Gemma wouldn't catch her. That was about the worst thing she could imagine. There were lights on throughout the house, but Jax's room was dark. She looked at her watch. 10:00. He either wasn't home, or went to bed uncharacteristically early. She hoped the latter was true.

She knocked lightly on the window, which was closed. She squinted through the sheer curtains, looking for any signs of movement. Nothing. She knocked again. After a minute or two, she saw someone rise from the bed. She smiled. She'd know that silhouette anywhere.

Jax stumbled to the window, rubbing his hands sleepily over his face. He was still fully clothed. It appeared his early bedtime wasn't planned. His brow furrowed when he saw Tara. He pushed open the window.

"The hell you doing here?" he grumbled. "What time is it?"

"It's only 10:00, Jax."

That took his outrage down a peg. "Oh."

"And I need to talk to you."

"Tara…" It was more of a sigh than a word.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving, Jax. You said your piece, now it's my turn to say mine." Exhausted and dejected, Jax looked in no mood to fight. He reached one arm out to Tara and easily pulled her into his room. They were close for a moment, and she had the urge to hug him, but he backed away too quickly. He shuffled back to his bed and plopped down. "May I sit?" she asked.

"Sure."

Tara seated herself beside him, but not too close. She felt an ache in her chest. She didn't like the space between them, physical or otherwise. "Gemma here?"

"No. She's out celebrating with her new fiancée," Jax said coldly.

"Her what?!" Tara was just as suspicious of Gemma and Clay as Jax was, but she didn't see that coming.

"Don't wanna talk about it." Jax set his jaw, closing the subject.

"So," she began. "I thought about everything you said, and I understand why you feel the way you do. But I want you to know, it's complete and utter bullshit." She kept her voice strong, even though her resolve was wavering. There was still a part of her, not as small as she would have liked, that was afraid Jax's true motive behind breaking up with her was that he simply didn't want her anymore, but was trying to let her down gently.

"_What?_" Jax's voice was still heavy with sleep. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Tara admired the way his muscles flexed and bulged as he moved. She cleared her throat, determined not to lose her train of thought.

"I said it's bullshit. Your logic that if I stay with you, all I'll ever be is an old lady, is based solely on the fact that the title 'old lady' defines the rest of them, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "But most of those women were crow eaters at one point. Which means that their goal in life was to become old ladies. That's all they are, because that's all they ever wanted to be."

"Wait, what?" Jax's face contorted in confusion. He was not awake enough, and Tara was talking too fast.

"I'm going to be a doctor," she said. "It's going to happen. Being with you is not going to stop me, because I would never let it. And neither would you. Maybe I went a little off the rails, and I'm sorry. It's just…this is all new to me. And it's crazy. Like, 'I gotta be with you every minute or I'm gonna kill myself' crazy. But today was a wake-up call. I do need to put my focus back on school, but I can do that and still be with you. I can handle both. The only thing I can't handle is if you leave me. So don't. Please."

"Tara…" Jax was awake now, and his eyes were fixed on hers. He looked conflicted- which was good, because it meant his position was changeable, but bad, because it meant she hadn't convinced him yet. And she'd already used everything she had. Well, almost. "We can't…?" He worded it almost like a question.

"Why?" Tara choked back a sob. "Why not, Jax? Unless…" she closed her eyes, unable to look at him as she said the words. She was too embarrassed.

"Unless what?"

"Unless that's not the real reason. Unless you really just don't want me. Which, well, I guess I can't do anything about that." She could feel the hotness in her cheeks, the shame in her posture. Jax began to laugh, digging the knife in deeper.

"Is that what you think?" His voice was sharp, almost angry. "Tell me you don't really believe that. Tara, I lo…I love being with you." The fact that he stopped himself mid-sentence was not lost on Tara. _Was he about to tell her he loved her?_ "But I know how this plays out. Something's gonna happen and you're gonna wind up stuck here." Tara's thoughts shifted to Donna. She averted her eyes from Jax's, hoping he didn't see. "And then you're gonna wind up hating me, this town, the club…I don't want that. You need to get out while you still can." _Now. Do it now._ Tara obeyed the voice in her head. She stood up, her back to Jax, and took a deep breath.

"Something already happened," she said. She lifted up her shirt, revealing her fresh tattoo. Jax inhaled sharply through his teeth. Tara smiled. It _was_ sort of breathtaking. Bobby did great work.

"What. The. Hell. Is. That." Each word was its own sentence. Jax was definitely surprised, but not in a good way. "Tara, what did you do?!" He jumped up from the bed and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around. Her eyes went wide, her heart in her throat. She'd never seen him like this before. "You got a tattoo?! Who did it? Bobby? I'm going to kick his ass!"

"Jax, I-" The words stuck in her throat, which was nearly swollen shut. "I just wanted to show you that I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"That tattoo is for old ladies, Tara. You are _not_ my old lady. I'm not even an official member yet!"

"But you will be," Tara protested quietly. "And when you are, I'll be there with you. I'm going to be your old lady, Jax. It's what I want. You're what I want." They were standing nose to nose. Tara could feel Jax's breath on her face, but there was nothing intimate about their closeness. He leaned into her, leaving no space between them. His hand was still clenched tightly around her arm. If he squeezed much harder, it would leave a bruise.

"Oh, this is what you want? Is it? You wanna be an old lady? You wanna pledge your life, at sixeen, to me, to this club?" The harshness in Jax's voice sent chills down Tara's spine.

"Stop it, Jax!" she insisted, false bravery in her tone. She couldn't let him know she was frightened. It was what he wanted, to scare her away. It wouldn't work.

"Old ladies don't mouth off to their men," Jax said. "If you want to be one, I suggest you learn your place." With her free hand, Tara slapped him across the face. It surprised her as much as it did him. He pressed his body into hers, pinning her against the wall. He kissed her, a hard, angry kiss. Even though she was afraid, she kissed him back. He let go of her arm, moving his hands to the collar of her shirt. The buttons gave way easily as he tugged from both sides, exposing Tara's bare flesh.

Goosebumps began to rise on her stomach and chest as Jax moved his lips to her neck, kissing hungrily. Tara grabbed two handfuls of his hair, twisting and pulling it as she pushed against him, biting his lower lip, almost too hard. She matched his aggression, move for move. He lifted her up with a heated grunt. She wrapped her legs around his waist, ignoring the tight pull of the raw skin on her back. He carried her to the bed, tossing her into the center with ease. He climbed onto the bed and stalked toward her, predatory. He paused, hovering over her, watching the rise and fall of her nearly bare breasts as she took labored, nervous breaths.

The fire in his eyes began to dissipate, his expression changing. He lowered his face to hers, slowly.

"Tara," he breathed. _He was back._ He reached one gentle hand to her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheekbone.

"Jax," she whispered, breathless. "I love you." He kissed her again, this time softer and with more emotion. He slid his hands to her back, unhooking her bra. Tara shivered involuntarily, arching her back toward Jax. She held her breath as he unbuttoned her jeans, the fabric rubbing against her raw skin.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I forgot." With careful hands, he slid Tara's jeans off, admiring her naked legs. She almost always wore long pants, so he very rarely got to see them. He pulled off his shirt, and then unbuckled his belt and let his jeans and his boxers fall to the floor. Tara was suddenly very aware that she and Jax were both completely naked. She wasn't sure where to focus her eyes. _On his face. Definitely on his face._

"Hi," he said softly, smiling as he kissed her.

"Hi," she replied, her voice rough.

"You sure you wanna do this?" he asked. She nodded. "You nervous?" She nodded again. He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. He kissed her again, this time pushing his body against hers, his leg between her thighs. She tried not to worry about what was going to happen, and instead focus on what _was_ happening- Jax's lips on her neck, her collarbone, her chest; his hands sliding down her torso, between her legs. When he touched her, she gasped. The sensation was foreign and erotic at the same time.

She ran her fingernails up and down his back, memorizing the contour of each muscle. She tasted the salty skin on his neck, and drank in the sight of his glorious body. He moved against her slowly, pushing her legs further and further apart. He placed one hand on each side of her head, using his arms to support his weight. His legs were between hers now, and she could feel his impressive girth against her.

She knew she should be afraid, but her body ached to have Jax inside her. She craved him. Needed him. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself inside of her. She dug her nails into his shoulders, waiting for the pain she was always told accompanied the first time. There was an unfamiliar pressure at first, then a warmth that spread outward from deep within her belly, everywhere, _everywhere_. No pain. Only ecstasy. She gasped, matching her rhythm to Jax's as she rocked her hips back and forth.

"You okay?" he asked, still moving with caution, as if she were a china doll and he was about to break her.

"Mmmhmmm," she moaned, pulling him toward her so that she could feel his lips on hers. He pushed deeper inside her, occupying a space she didn't know existed. She tilted her head back, exposing the delicate skin under her chin. Jax grazed it with his teeth. Tara shuddered.

"I love you," Jax whispered, his lips against her ear. _He loved her_. She knew that now. And as he climaxed, letting out a long, low growl, she knew that nothing would ever come between them again.


End file.
